If I Walk Down This Hallway
by dutchtreat
Summary: It's exactly a year after the events from episode 2.21. While Alaric is having nightmares about that tragic day, Jenna comes to comfort him. Oneshot.


_If I walk down this hallway, tonight,_

_it's too quiet ..._

Mystic Falls is asleep; it's a little after midnight. The shadows of clouds passing the moon roam the dark streets, and the creatures of the night stealthily make their way through empty alleys. The woods are silent, and the scent of earlier rain still hangs heavy in the air.

If you listen carefully, you can hear the sound of a TV filtering through a half open window. No doubt somebody fell asleep watching it, turning the canned laughter of some sitcom into an eerie soundtrack to a stranger's unknown dreams.

You follow in the footsteps of some ginger stray cat as it prowls the familiar neighbourhood. The shadows don't bother you, and it's not like you should worry about being noticed either, but you still prefer to stay on the dark side of the street, near the trees, almost hiding, knowing that you don't really belong here anymore.

Though it feels like yesterday, you somehow know that it has been a year since you have seen him, saw those kind, warm eyes. You will never forget his serious look, the honesty clear on his face. The love. Despite that, the dull ache of loss is minor compared to the feel of butterflies in your stomach that you get from knowing that you are finally near him again.

With stilled breath you reach 2104 Maple Street. Before you is your home ... his home now. You take a moment to look around, to take in the feeling of warmth this place always gives you. Somewhere you hear the low bark of a dog, it startles you for a moment, but then the quiet descends again, and you move closer to the house. Glide silently across the porch, steady, calm. In the distance an air conditioner kicks on, humming.

You slowly, carefully make your way through the door. Keeping the old hinges from squeaking, and waking the people inside. Light as a mouse you ascend the stairs. Step after step bringing with them more urgency. Once upstairs you look around the space, look at its unique corners and angles. You sense Jeremy's presence; Elena's not here. Then your eyes finally, irrevocably settle upon his door ... it's slightly ajar.

Peeking in, your eyes are immediately drawn to the bed. Your gaze stays there as you hesitantly walk in, and walk around the side of the bed. You look down upon him lovingly. His hair is ruffled -even more than usual- against the pillow and the sheets are lying down across his midsection, the edges bunched into his hands.

Just as you reach out to touch his face he inhales sharply, twitches and furrows his brow into a tight line. Your breath stills for a moment. He is dreaming of something that is haunting him, and it makes your heart hurt, makes you feel hopeless. You know you got to help him somehow.

There is room enough for you to lie down, so you slowly sit down on the edge of the bed. You bring your legs up to rest on the sheets beside his, and you lower your body next to him. Your head rests on the pillow, the one that it has rested on so many nights before; the left side of the bed ... your side.

Just laying here with him is enough to still your nerves into a serene, familiar feeling of bliss. You can feel the warm air from his slightly opened mouth breeze over your face with warmth. You want to hold him, bring your arms around him and hug him close. Kiss him. But most of all you desperately want to feel his arms around you again, eventhough you know it is just a fantasy. So sad are those thoughs. They don't stop you from ghosting your lips against his forehead.

He mumbles something in his sleep and you can see his eyes move beneath his eyelids. See his fingers grasp the sheets tighter. Fright invades your senses. He's having a nightmare. Your arms twitch and you sigh. The tension on his face is almost too much to bear. If only you could take it all away. You are so close to him now, yet you are so far away from his reality.

His eyes have stopped fluttering and his breathing is normal again. Whatever was troubling him, it is gone for now. The adrenaline-like rush drains from your blood. You feel safe her. This place allows you to be concerned for him above everything else, including your own situation.

Minutes pass and you watch him with wide eyes, study his every movement, every deep breath. You take in the edge of his features and the strands of his unruly hair. A smile creeps over your lips. He fidgets under his sheets and his head presses into the pillow. You chuckle under your breath. He is so handsome when he's like this, and you feel so priviliged to witness this again. To see him slumber, bad dream or not.

"P-please," he grunts and shifts in his bed. His breathing sharpens. "Please. No!"

You stare wide-eyed at his trembling eyelashes and you know that the dream is back. If you could just enter his head and fight it away – if such thing were only possible ... Distress curls around your heart while you watch his mouth twist in agony. "Jenna ..." He's is crying your name in his dream. "No! Jenna!" His whimpering makes sharp, moist breath beat against your cheeks.

Afraid to break the weird spell of this night, you lift a nervous hand and place is on his naked, sweaty chest, the coarse hair bringing back sweet memories. Your gentle fingers move up to rest on his shoulders. You bring your forehead closer until it touches his. You're as close as you dare go, hopefully close enough to nurture the nightmare away. "I'm here," you whisper. You're close to crying, but you hold the tears back. You must be strong for him. Wash his sorrows away.

You lift your head and rest it on his heart, willing the frantic beating to slow down. "Alaric," you sigh "Ric ... I'm here for you. This heart of yours has never lost me, it will never be alone. I'm so sorry that this is all we have left, you deserve more, we deserved so much more." You know that he probably won't remember this night, but you can't stop yourself from leaning up and softly kissing his lips. Perhaps he can feel it in his dream. A sole tears drips down your lashes as you whisper "I love you."

You stay curled up against him all night, hand against his heart, and watch as his fits subside. The entire time, you study him while he sleeps, committing everything to memory. Every little detail, from the scruff on his chin to the way his fingers relax and release their grip on the covers. You smile. You wouldn't trade this moment for anything in the world, because here beside him _is_ your world.

Time passes. Hours go by and soon you see the morning light. You want to stay here, but you know you can't. This life isn't yours anymore. The shadows are subsiding, the nightly crawlers are hiding away in the dark cracks of the woods, and the cats in the alleys are curling up to sleep another day away.

You sit up, placing a last lingering kiss on his lips, and then leave the bed and his room. Walking towards the stairs, you look over your shoulder one more time before descending them. You know you are leaving him with a memory that only you will keep, but there is one thing that you are so happy about that it almost makes you float. You know that somehow he will be alright, because the last thing you see, is the smile across his face.

-o~0~o-

_I think last night_

_(y__ou were in my dreams)_

While rubbing his eyes, Alaric sits up in bed and looks at the calendar. It is May 5th. He knows he must have been dreaming about that day ... a year ago now. But strange enough, hearing the birds chirp outside makes him happy. As he swings his legs over and sits up he wonders why he is smiling. Could it be the weird memory of a presence telling him that everything will be okay, or the odd feeling that causes his heart to pound like it knows that it is loved?

He scratches his head thinking, as he looks down at his bed and something catches his eye. He is aware of the familiar, pleasant, but fading smell that permeates the room as he picks the curiosity up from the sheet. Twirling the strawberry blonde strand of hair in his fingers, he smiles for the promise of a bright and suprisingly happy day.

The End

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><p>AN: Title and the lines in italic are from Kristin Hersh's song 'Your Ghost'. Everything you recognize is not mine. Reviews are appreciated.<p> 


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